


Fuck You, Salad

by slashmania



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur doesn't like salads, Crack, Eames has good intentions, Fluff and Crack, M/M, this somehow becomes a THING for the dreamshare community to gossip about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania
Summary: "It is a projection of me," Arthur said tightly, "it is a projection of me that runs around shared dreams, during our jobs, and openly talks about hating salad.""He talks about hating salad while he kicks much ass, love. Please remember that part!"
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Fuck You, Salad

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a week or so. I think I got the idea when I was finishing up earlgreytea68's _Dream Bigger_ and ran across a comment about Arthur's hatred of salads. 
> 
> And this was born. It started out cracktastic then got fluffy and I don't know why. But I'll take it! We all need more fluff right now.
> 
> The title is from a Meriwether of Montana product. It's a key chain that says _Fuck You, Salad_ and I couldn't resist using it.

"This whole 'Arthur hates salads' thing is getting out of control," Arthur muttered to Eames.

Eames couldn't hide his smile over the most recent bit of ridiculousness, he was quite proud of it, really. Why should he hide that smile?

"I think its endearing," Eames said, attempting to win Arthur to his side.

Arthur's glare was sharp enough to cut a bitch. 

Eames may not have been a bitch, but his love of all things related to the point man wasn't blunting the edge of Arthur's displeased glance. Eames winced.

"It is a projection of me," Arthur said tightly, "it is a projection of me that runs around shared dreams, during our _jobs_ , and openly talks about hating salad."

"He talks about hating salad while he kicks much ass, love. Please remember that part!"

Arthur's glare wasn't dulled by the comment either, so Eames shut up.

* * *

It all started innocently enough. It was actually amazing how much got around when you considered that dreamshare was mostly used for corporate espionage and the theft of secrets and ideas. You'd think that people who did that for a living would be a little more careful about what they shared at the metaphorical water-cooler.

But no. Dreamsharers were the worst gossips ever. So while it was common for gossip and rumors to circle around prominent people in the field, Arthur took a special pride that some of the stuff about him was fairly tame and mostly referred to how awesome he was, or sometimes certain bits of gossip started debates about whether or not he was actually a robot or something, but Arthur ignored those ones in favor of the 'Arthur is awesome' stories. He liked those and was glad he didn't have to deal with rumors about being crazy, like Cobb did.

No one loved dreamshare gossip more than Eames. So when an extractor noticed Arthur looking unhappy with the salad that came with their lunches a bit of gossip was tossed about soon after. It morphed into Arthur openly hating salad. By the time the gossip reached Eames it had become a grand story about Arthur’s open vendetta with salads of any kind.

After watching Arthur eat a salad during one job, noticing the way Arthur stabbed at it with his fork, Eames began to understand how people could think that Arthur hated salad...and then when Eames went under by himself to work on a forgery, a brand new projection, one of his darling Arthur, appeared next to him in front of the mirrors he’d wished into being for this forgery session.

Arthur looked as wonderful as usual, of course, but he also looked annoyed. 

“What are you doing here, love?” Eames asked, already curious about what this projection would say.

“I fucking hate salads...” the projection said darkly.

“I wonder why that is,” Eames answered.

And so it began...

* * *

“You...you’ve been cataloging all of my salads?”

Eames nodded. “It was for science. I wanted to get to the bottom of your supposed hatred of salads.”

“For science,” Arthur repeated.

Arthur’s glares had been getting weaker lately but when Eames suggested Arthur eat more carrots, which could brighten up his salads if that was what he found so awful about them, Arthur told Eames to fuck off. But even that wasn’t as forceful as usual.

Eames shrugged helplessly at Arthur. “I find you fascinating, but this projection of Arthur the Salad Hater doesn’t give me much information on _why_ he hates salad. I want to get rid of him as much as you do—”

Arthur snorted in disbelief. “You could just shoot him in the face!”

Eames sighed and hugged Arthur. Arthur may have engaged in some half-hearted grumbling about it but eventually gave into the hug without further complaint.

“I don’t want to shoot a projection of you in the face, darling. I would rather figure out why I have a projection of you that has a very negative opinion about salads and resolve the issue. I want all versions of my darling to be happy.” Then he pressed a kiss against Arthur’s brow.

* * *

“Why do you make yourself eat salad if you hate it?” Eames asked Arthur while they were out to dinner. It provided more opportunities for Eames to collect data, but it was also pleasant to spend more time with Arthur when they weren’t being shot at. Granted, they sometimes had bounties on their heads, or made enemies while working, so maybe it was too soon to say that they wouldn’t be shot at this evening. Eames was betting on the shooter being the waiter...

Eames had learned that Arthur had a system for eating salad. He tended to remove any croutons and put them on a small dish provided by the restaurant. He had put a little dressing on the side so the salad wasn’t drenched in it. Then he would stab at it with his fork.

Arthur paused as he raised a forkful to his mouth. “It has lots of vitamins and other nutrients. I learned a long time ago that if I didn’t continue exercising and eating healthy I might not survive this criminal lifestyle.”

Eames refused to self-consciously poke at his fancy burger with its side of regular fries, not sweet potato fries. He also cared about his health and his continued ability to come out on top in most dreamshare related scuffles.

But it was also a Friday and he could cheat today as long as he hit the gym on Saturday morning.

They continued eating quietly, just enjoying each other’s time, when Arthur suddenly reached for the bottle of ketchup provided with Eames’s French fries but Eames hadn't touched it because he didn't like the stuff.

“Grab your plate right now and get down next to me,” Arthur said before using one hand to promptly flip over their table, creating cover as the gunfire started, and then took a chance to throw the bottle of ketchup at the armed waiter’s head. There was a huge thump as it connected and the gunfire stopped!

Eames was sure that Arthur’s salad was all over the floor where the dishes had crashed to the ground, but he still held his plate with the half-eaten burger and his fries, all intact!

“No one fucks with us on your cheat day,” Arthur proclaimed to Eames before getting up from behind their upended table.

Eames did as well and saw the poor idiot was disarmed and on the ground, groaning about his head.

The ketchup bottle had rolled away after it hit the floor, unbroken, while other guests who had taken cover once the shooting started began calling the police on their smart phones.

It was all the distraction Arthur and Eames needed to quietly slip away with Eames’s burger and fries.

* * *

“I guess I don’t like salads because so much can go wrong with them,” Arthur said.

It was long after they woke up attached to the PASIV, leaving the mark to wake up on his own, a mark who would be perplexed with the really odd dream they had that featured Arthur the Salad Hater projection kicking much security projection ass while also ranting about an extremely sour balsamic vinaigrette salad dressing or how horrible he thought wilted arugula was. It had actually been an excellent distraction and Eames had been able to get all the secrets they were paid to steal.

They were in their hotel room, preparing for a well deserved rest.

“Well, not every salad is going to be perfect, Arthur.”

“And I’m not saying that they should be it’s just that I kind of have a bad habit of ordering what I’m certain will be fine, but get something kind of off instead. And then I have to force myself to eat it because when I was a child my mother constantly reminded me about all the children going hungry in the world while I bitched and moaned that I didn’t like something.”

Eames turned on his side and watched Arthur, who still lay on his back looking up at the ceiling.

“The Fischer job left you with quite a bit of money, love. I’m sure that makes it easier to just, I don’t know, buy another one if the first one is terrible.”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not about money, Eames; it’s about the waste of food. If you listened to my mother talk about it, one was obviously just as terrible as the other.”

Eames considered this and said, “Then why don’t you just skip getting a disappointing salad from some place and maybe make your own and bring it to work with you.”

Arthur paused and thought about it.

“I could probably try that.”

* * *

Arthur wasn’t good at making salads.

Eames wasn’t either, but sometimes while they were practicing at home and trying out different combinations, it could be a little fun.

Then Eames gave Arthur the job of making salads to go with dinner, and he wasn’t surprised when Arthur took it on like he could take on anything in dreamshare.

He researched combinations of lettuce leaves and other toppings so the salad could compliment their main meal. He learned about making simple salad dressings that weren’t too sour and refrigerating the salad bowls before serving anything. Arthur even learned what a salad spinner was, and Eames wouldn’t lie; he found it extremely charming to watch Arthur smile while using the thing to dry the lettuce leaves.

When Arthur finally sat down at the table and self-consciously presented the first finished product to Eames, he cleared his throat and said, “Uh, yeah. It’s just a simple green salad, but there aren’t tomatoes because you don’t like those, and I grated some carrot on top for added color. The dressing is stupid, but-”

Eames shook his head and said, “Remember, you’re not going to talk about what you make that way. The salad dressing isn’t stupid, darling. I’m sure that it’s great!”

And to prove it, Eames took a large bite of salad from the plate in front of him while Arthur ignored the plate he put in front of himself.

Arthur was right. It was just a simple salad, but not every salad had to be complicated. The lettuce was crisp, the carrots were fresh, and Eames was touched that Arthur had remembered that Eames didn’t like tomatoes. But the dressing as so pleasant! Arthur hadn’t used a crazy amount while tossing the salad, so it was evenly distributed, and not soggy in the slightest.

Eames finished chewing and then swallowed before complimenting Arthur. “This is wonderful, Arthur! I like what you did with the dressing. You used shallots, didn’t you?”

Surprise couldn’t remove the look of pleasure on Arthur’s face. “Not a lot. There’s also some sugar to cut the acidity.” Then, as they began to talk about emulsion, he took a forkful of salad and tried it.

Eames wasn’t holding his breath as he watched Arthur try the salad, but it was nice to see that Arthur didn’t hate it.

It was also nice to see that Arthur hadn’t begun to stab at his salad like he would with other salads in the past. This was a nice and peaceful dinner where no salads were stabbed.

* * *

They saw less and less of Arthur the Salad Hater projection. And when they did occasionally run into him, he had less to say about how and why salads suck.

“I don’t mind salads, I guess,” was the last thing Eames actively recalled the projection saying before he was gone for good.

And as time went on, there was still talk about Arthur, that awesome point man who maybe could be a robot, and once was the point man for Cobb, that crazy extractor.

Eventually the gossip about Arthur’s salad vendetta faded away.


End file.
